ROCK REVIEW

ROCK REVIEW; 29 Years And Some Forgotten Words Later

By NEIL STRAUSS

Published: August 5, 1994

There are few sure things at a Grateful Dead performance. The band changes its set every night, plays for anywhere from two to four hours and gives performances that can vary from lackluster to appropriately mind-blowing. It is probably the only surviving 60's band that can get away with not playing its most popular songs in concert, and the only one whose new songs are canonized immediately. In fact, part of the excitement of a Grateful Dead concert is the hope that the band will unveil a new piece in embryonic form.

The Grateful Dead evolves through performances, not records, and isn't afraid to fall on its face during its live improvisations. On Wednesday night at Giants Stadium in East Rutherford, N.J., in front of a sold-out house of 55,000, the Grateful Dead fell and picked itself up again. Midway through the concert's opening song, "Mississippi Half-Step Uptown Toodeloo," Jerry Garcia, the 52-year-old guitarist and singer, seemed to forget the words, a trend that continued throughout the evening.

After muscling its way through the Chicago blues "Little Red Rooster," the Grateful Dead snapped into place for a little while. Bob Weir picked up an acoustic guitar for his version of Marty Robbins's "El Paso," and the band jammed country-style with the fluidity that few of its imitators can match.

Two of the evening's new songs, "Samba in the Rain" and "If the Shoe Fits," were among the show's low points. "Samba" was sung by the keyboardist Vince Welnick, who tends to overemote and fall off pitch. Phil Lesh, the bassist, sang "If the Shoe Fits," which was a hodgepodge of Latin rhythms, light jazz piano and blues. The "Shoe" lyric "get it on while you still can" could certainly apply to the band's longevity (it's in its 29th year), but the "Samba in the Rain" double-entendre "keep on going until we drop" is more apt. After all, though a lot of dinosaur rock bands seem as if they're never going to go away, the Grateful Dead is the only one that looks as if it might drop on any given night. The band hardly moves or talks onstage, and Mr. Garcia makes opening his mouth seem like an effort.

The show's high point was the second half of the second set, beginning with "Crazy Fingers." Mr. Garcia walked his guitar through a slow country blues progression, and sang a quiet series of haikus. After "Corinna," a new song sung by Mr. Weir, the band broke down into its traditional "Drums/Space" instrumental improvisation. Without getting indulgent, the drummers Mickey Hart and Bill Kreutzmann expanded on the African and Asian influences in their polyrhythmic playing, before ceding to the atmospheric portion of the jam. The Dead then hit the perfect groove for the closing trilogy, "The Other One," "Attics of My Life" and "Sugar Magnolia."

Though the Dead's playing and its all-American mix of blues, country, bluegrass and jazz is played with freedom, its followers were subjected to strict measures of control. Concert security was excessive, and videotaped safety tips by Mr. Lesh, recorded at the prompting of the stadium, were repeatedly screened before the show. Also in abundance were tie-dye clad undercover law-enforcement officials. In the end, there were 28 arrests at the concert, 17 of them for possession or distribution of nitrous oxide, also known as laughing gas, according to the New Jersey State Police.

Opening for the Grateful Dead is never an easy task, but the band billed as Traffic weathered it well. The 60's psychedelic blues-rock group, which includes only two original members, Steve Winwood and Jim Capaldi, played to a less-than-half-full stadium. Though technically proficient, the band's timeworn nuggets failed to ignite until Mr. Garcia walked out on stage and helped Traffic jam on "Dear Mr. Fantasy."